


Amanda

by MaggieP



Category: Green Day
Genre: F/M, Green Day - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 21:43:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaggieP/pseuds/MaggieP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"...she traveled all the way from Dookie to American Idiot. 'She', 'Haushinka', 'Whatsername'... Now, I say fuck it. I'll give her a name; the next song's called 'Amanda'."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amanda

**Author's Note:**

> ***Don't own, don't sue***  
> Also, I suggest you listen to Down in Mexico by The Coasters while reading this.

His stomach jumped and he could almost feel his heart beating at the back of his throat. He could recognize that bright orange waterfall of hair from miles away. He made a point to just fuck it all and leave. He's managed to live without her all these years until now, why not the rest of his life? But his legs had a mind of their own that night, and he found himself approaching her with hesitant but quick steps.

It will only be a drink, an opportunity to catch up she had told him on the phone and her voice made him remember, bitter sweet memories flooding his brain.

She smiled when she saw him standing next to her. It was like remembering a dream he had forgotten all about; familiar but brand new at the same time.

They walked in to the bar, packed with rednecks and drunkards, the air thick and heavy from cigarette smoke and sweat. Not the ideal place for a catch up meeting, but then again, who claimed to be ideal or normal? The whole idea of meeting after all these years was already crazy.

They squeezed their way to the bar stools and when she sat down next to him, her elbow sent electric shocks through his whole body. He reminded himself to calm the fuck down, but every time a part of her body would touch his he found it hard to breathe.

She ordered the same old shitty beer she used to drink when they were together, she laughed the same way she used to when he said something stupid, her bright blue eyes would shine the same way every time he called her name. He looked at her small tattoo on her wrist, where the initials of somebody's name were marked on her snow white skin. Husband? Child? Her freckles on her nose had faded away with the years, and he remembered himself making fun of her back then.

'It looks like you haven't washed your face in years!'

But as the night passed by and the beer bottles were multiplying, he started looking at other stuff, forbidden for a married man; the way her thighs were showing every time she crossed her legs, the tip of her tongue touching the bottle before she took a sip, her neck and her shoulder that were uncovered from her ratty dress, places where he would sink his teeth in just hard enough to hear his name bubbling on her lips. His wedding bang was burning his finger, like a silent warning from Hell.

He shook his head to bring his shit together, and pretended he was listening to her story all along. It didn't bother him that they never mentioned their spouses, their families. They both formed their sentences, chose every single word with precaution, as if it was a subject that was forbidden.

It took them some time to realize The Coasters were playing though the speakers. She stopped talking and put the bottle on the bar, then turned to look at him straight in the eye. He didn't want to do this; the urge to leave was strong, but she made him stay. People were already dancing to the slow but raw rhythm, but she found a way to pull him right in the center of the dancing mass. He had no choice but to be extremely close to her, it was so packed. Anybody and nobody had a partner. She put his hands on her waist and she snaked her arms around his neck. They were breathing each others breath, feeling each others heat radiating from their body. He watched drops of sweat drip down from her neck all the way down between her breasts. He stared at her lips draw in a shy grin every now and then. He felt her body move beneath his hands and it made him feel hot from the inside out.

The taste of her sweat on his tongue was sinfully seductive. He bit down the skin where her neck and her shoulder meet, and when she whispered his name it sounded brand new. The place was so crowded that all anyone could see was what was above their shoulders, and he took that opportunity to let his hands linger; the small of her back, the curve of her ass. He pulled her dress up slowly and lazily, and squeezed the tender flesh. He noticed that their breath began to change, and his pants felt too tight beneath his belt. He felt her leaning against him, as if her legs would give up any time.

The breeze felt cold on his wet skin, but it didn't stop him from dragging her to the dark, swampy alley behind the bar. He pinned her against the wall and her hands were lost in his hair. His lips were on fire and the city grew silent; no cars, no music, no people. Just them. She groaned into his ear and he pressed his fingers harder underneath her panties. She was soft and soaked and he was harder than ever. She got on her knees before he had the chance to ask her and the warmth of her mouth almost made him lose his balance. He pulled her hair back to look into her eyes, those big blue oceans full of passion. She let go of him with a loud pop and he pulled her back up. she was light as a bird when he lifted her in his arms, her legs around his waist, her back against the wall.

She clenched on his shirt and pulled his lower lip when he got inside of her. It didn't take time for him to remember; he whispered all the right words, did all the right moves he knew they would bring her to the edge. Her nails on his skin, the taste of her moans when he kissed her, the smell of her hair, the tight feeling of her around him... It was like the last time they did this was just the day before. It's amazing what the body can remember.

The sound of her voice commanding him to go faster was what made him lose his mind. He was struggling to hold her up and himself on his feet. She pulled him closer and he buried his face in her neck, her hair all over his face. He cursed like a sailor under his breath and called her names that he meant with every single inch of his existence. It was hate sex. She hated him for selling out, he hated her for crushing him.

The pit of his stomach was on fire, his knees were getting weak. He was shaking from the inside out and his moans struggled their way out of his throat and were muffled against her neck. Her voice was breaking, her breath was getting hooked at the back of her throat. She broke the night around them, her cries bringing them back to reality. A buzzy and blurry one, but still.

He let her legs fall on the ground, his body still leaning against hers, their breaths deep and shaky.

She took his face in her hands and kissed him, but he pulled away. It wasn't disappointment he saw in her eyes. It was more like she knew that she shouldn't have expected anything more. He kissed her back, though, after a while, scraping his teeth on her lower lip.

"Leave..." he breathed in her mouth, coming from the bottom of his heart.

He closed his eyes and when she got back inside the bar, he leaned against the wall. He looked at this wedding bang and he didn't feel like he had dishonored it. Not at all. He did his marriage a favor; she was like a ghost haunting him for the last twenty odd years and tonight he broke the curse.

He waited until he heard her car leaving the parking lot before he went to his own car. He sat and fixed his clothes and looked himself in the rear view mirror. He was free. He left the bar with a grin on his face, forgetting her but not the time.


End file.
